Starlight (Peaches Monroe #2)(64)
Author: Mimi Strong

On prom night, the limo showed up at my house, and I posed for pictures on the front lawn with Jett, and with Chantalle, and then all four of us, including Jett’s brother Kevin. Chantalle pouted and said she hated me for having better cle**age, which I took as a compliment. I wore a blue dress with a sweetheart neckline, and I looked great… and yes, my mother did cry. My father sniffed a few times as well. Kyle came running out of the house with no pants on and peed on the bushes, as evidenced by three of the photographs taken that night. (I’ll be sure to bring those out with pride at his prom one day.)

The whole evening started off perfect. I didn’t spill food on my dress, and I didn’t even say anything to embarrass myself. I guess I was partly distracted by the corset-style strapless bra I was wearing, and my constant fear of a wardrobe malfunction that did not happen.

Jett was a dream date, always making sure I had a beverage, and dancing to all the songs I liked. At my suggestion, we went over and joined the circle of solo girls toward the end of the night, and Jett tore up the dance floor in his sharp tuxedo, to the delight of all the girls. He was getting so much attention from all of them, that I found myself getting envious. The way some of them were pawing him… you’d think they’d never seen a geek in a white tux jacket before.

The night drew to a close, and we proceeded to the Spencer residence, where I had permission to stay until two o’clock in the morning. My parents had assumed the parental Spencers would be in the house, but they hadn’t actually asked, so I hadn’t needed to lie.

As you may have guessed by the fact I’d given birth to a child already, I was no virgin. (I didn’t share with Mitchell the secret-baby-having details.) I wasn’t holding out anything for anyone, especially since Adrian never even showed up to the prom.

To my absolute delight, Jett made a case for us ha**ng s*x that night. I’d already decided hours earlier, but I did enjoy being in the role of the girl who wanted to be talked into it.

We were sitting in his family’s recreation room, which had a pool table, two of those old stand-up video arcade games from the eighties, and a deluxe bar with a sink and a beer fridge. We were drinking beer from cans, poured into glasses. Jett had been quite particular about pouring the beer to get the right amount of foam.

We sat next to each other on the sofa, our knees touching. He said, “I feel like such a jerk, putting all this pressure on you. I feel like one of those guys in those videos we saw at school.”

I laughed and sipped my beer, then wiped the foam off my upper lip. “No way. Those guys are all, ‘I saw you dancing like a dirty slut. I know you want it. I’m gonna give it to you.’”

Jett laughed, but looked uncomfortable.

I tipped up the glass and finished the beer. It was my second one since we’d gotten there. Chantalle and Kevin were upstairs. I had to be home in an hour.

In a move I have to describe as possibly my classiest one to date, I stood up, kicked off my shoes, reached up under my pretty blue prom dress, and pulled my panties down and off. I rolled them up and stuck them in the toe of my shoe, then I sat back down in the corner of the sofa.

“Jett, I have to be home in an hour. I can tell by the way you dance that you’re a sex machine, so why don’t you climb on and start rocking my world right now.”

For a second, I thought he was going to run away. His face blanched, and he was already a pale guy. He took off his white jacket slowly and set it on the round, glass coffee table alongside the two empty beer glasses. He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out a condom packet, then leaned over and clicked off the halogen lamp standing beside the couch.

I swung one leg up onto the couch, hiked my dress up, and prepared to be boarded. I heard some balloon-animal noises, and then Jett clambered up on me. After some fumbling around in the dark, he moaned.

I pulled his head down to mine and kissed him. He moaned again, moving in a thrusting motion with his hips.

What was I feeling in my pu**y area? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

So I lay there for several minutes, which I can assure you feels like f**king eternity when you think something’s gone wrong with your vagina and it’s now completely numb.

Mitchell interrupted my story at this point, waving his hand excitedly. “He was in your butt.”

“Ew, no! I’d notice that. You’re so bad.”

“He was rubbing in between your thighs.”

“Not even. I might have enjoyed that. He was f**king the couch cushions. And, by the way he was going to town on them, I had to wonder if it was even the first time.”

“No!”

“Yes. He stopped kissing me and started french-kissing the throw pillows.”

Mitchell smacked my arm. “No he didn’t, you fibber.”

I continued, “I sensed that he was getting close to, you know, closing the deal with the sofa. So, I started to fake having an orgasm. Heavy breathing, moaning, thrashing around in ecstasy. Keep in mind I’d never actually had one before with a guy, so I was doing the movie version.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Not really. You see, he shifted his position on the couch, so his hip bone was, you know, in a very nice place. After a few minutes, my cries became real.”

“Shut up.”

“We came together. Just like that. Gasping and sweating in each other’s arms, me in my hiked-up prom dress and him with his rented trousers down around his ankles, his bow-tie slightly askew.”

Mitchell fanned his face. “I’m a little turned on right now.”

“I reached down and pulled him out of the crack in the cushions, so he wouldn’t realize what had happened, and you know what?”

“What?”

“He did have a really big dick, as it turned out.”

Mitchell pointed his finger at me. “That was a good one, but it wasn’t a horror story.”

“The story’s not over yet.”

He leaned in.

“So all four of us run out to the limousine, because both of us girls have to be home by two o’clock. We get in the back of the limo, and Chantalle’s being awfully quiet. I ask her what’s wrong, and she opens her mouth and barfs all over me. This gross, watery barf that smells like wine, and it’s in my cle**age, and I can feel it dribbling down inside my dress. So, Chantalle, who is pretty drunk, turns to Kevin and says, ’See, I told you if I swallowed your spunk I’d throw it back up again.’”

Mitchell began to hyperventilate.